


Good Years

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Awesome James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Fake Science, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter and Natasha help each other, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Steve Rogers, Science Bros, Sleep Deprivation, Smart Peter Parker, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, The Avengers Need a Hug, Thor and Peter are friends, Thor deserves better, Tony Stark Feels, spider-man saves the day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-11-26 03:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20923277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter never thought he’d see the end of the world, but with Tony drifting off in Titan’s wind and the Avengers hopeless, he knew it was the end. Thanos did it.





	1. orange

**Author's Note:**

> hi i wrote this at like 9 am love me pls

* * *

Orange had never been Peter Parker’s favorite color. He’d always preferred a deep, rich red color just like the shades of the Iron Man suit, or a soft, golden brown color just like MJ’s skin. He could make do with an emerald green that coated the new backpack May bought him, or a periwinkle knitted sweater that happened to be his favorite, hung up in the back of his closet awaiting the first day of fall, or a platinum color that would highlight Pepper’s features during a conference. 

Even the yellow shade on their Academic Decathlon that stuck out like a sore thumb in a crowd of thousands or the worn, white color of Bruce’s lab coat suited better than the color orange.

Orange had just never appealed to him.

  
The color had too much energy associated with it, the mix of yellow and red. Joy, success, balance were associated with the overly bright color that wasn’t common in the style everybody copies nowadays. It didn’t make him feel warmer than his periwinkle knitted sweater or the deep, rich red shade of Tony’s Iron Man suit.

He didn’t hate the color before, but now he certainly didn’t. It was all he could see for miles upon miles.

Orange illuminated the debris that littered the ground, uneven and rough. The air was thick with dust and dirt, although it was quiet between them. Doctor Strange, Mister Stark, Peter Quill, Mantis and Drax weren’t there anymore. They were gone with the wind, covering small parts of Titan in dust. Their dying words rang in the silence.

_”Something is happening.”_

_”Quill?”_

_”Aw man.”_

_”It’s okay, Pete.”_

Nebula grabbed his shoulder eventually, but he didn’t budge. Peter glanced at his trembling hand, Mister Stark’s blood coating the Iron-Spider suit and he bit his lip. His throat felt tight and he coughed. He stumbled after Nebula toward some ship, a few whimpers slipping past his thin lips. She said nothing as she began working on whatever, her face never switching expressions. Peter said nothing to her and she said nothing back. He needed time to think.

Peter slid down the wall of the ship and onto it’s cold, metal floor in silence. He clutched his wrist with one hand and stared off at nothing. The silence was deafening, a hammer being hit in the distance and a sniffle from Peter every once in a while. He couldn’t tinker to distract himself like how Tony would have, and he couldn’t swing around Queens like usual.

Hours ticked by slowly, cold air dropping a couple degrees and it left Peter shivering. Nebula and him weren’t on Titan anymore, drifting through space and hopefully to Earth. But he wasn’t stupid, he would most likely die before they got there. Traveling through space didn’t happen in a second, he’d probably be a pile of bones by the time the ship even got halfway to Earth.

Nebula had grabbed a rock off the planet and handed it to him, carving tally marks into the wall of the ship. 

It’d been four days since watching their makeshift team turn to dust, courtesy of Thanos, when they saw a bright light appear in the windows of the ship. Peter was trembling from the freezing temperatures, barely awake from the lack of food with Nebula’s coat over his shoulders when it had happened. Then their ship starting moving at lightning speed, maybe an hour before they landed on Earth, thanks to whoever had the power to bring them that far that quickly. 

Peter stumbled when they landed, barely able to stand but he refused Nebula’s help. He limped with Nebula’s cautious hand by his hip. They walked off the ship together, watching the broken Avengers running toward them. Rhodey, Steve, Natasha, even Pepper sprinted toward them, yelling out Tony’s name.

They didn’t know who they were.

”Peter?” Pepper said when they all gathered around the duo. She had only seen the teenager a number of times in the hallways of SI, but she had no idea he was Spider-Man. Apparently none of the Avengers did either, their gaping mouths was proof.

She looked tired, frizzy hair framed her face but she reached for Peter. The woman looked close to crying, “Where’s Tony?”

They all looked at him. Peter choked slightly at his name, hot tears slipping down his hollow cheeks as he stumbled into Pepper’s arms. “I’m sorry,” his apology was muffled by the fabric of her coat, but everybody heard it. He cried silently into her arms, hearing Steve mutter to himself.

Pepper pulled away and looked at him.

Peter’s hair was messy and knotted, slightly greasy from his trip to space. His cheeks were hollow, dark bruises under his bloodshot eyes and skinny fingers grasped the sleeve of her coat. His lips were chapped and a shade of blue that was concerning, he smiled sadly.

”He probably needs medical attention.” Bruce said and the moment was broken. Steve picked Peter up bridal style, his head rested in the crook of his neck. They rushed him inside, tripping and stumbling over each other’s feet. He coughed into the crook of Steve’s neck, a sudden wave of shivers running up his spine and a tickle in the back of his throat.

Peter let time slip past him as Bruce stuck an IV in his arm (in all honesty he had no idea where they put it) and the remaining Avengers filed into the room, but he continued staring at a wall blankly. Remembering the warmth of Tony’s arms around him and his reassuring words that fell on deaf ears at that moment. Hot tears pricked his eyes and he sniffed, Rhodey placed a hand on his shoulder. Peter only shook his head and lifted a trembling finger onto the man’s hand, tapping twice.

Rhodey removed his hand silently. 

Minutes ticked by slowly before Steve cleared his throat, uncrossing his legs and stood. He walked until he was on the side of the bed, crouching down. “Peter... Can you tell us what happened?”

”We lost, Captain.” Peter snorted, staring at his lap, “Thanos kicked our ass.”

”Was there anything he told you or Tony? A way to fix this, perhaps?” Pepper pleaded, tears shining in the bright lights.

Peter shook his head, “I-I followed Mister Stark into space, met Doctor Strange and proceeded to crash the ship we stole on Titan. Run into these people-who were asking for somebody named Gamora. Thanos pops up, we fight. He sort-sort of threw a moon at us? I think he stabbed Mister Stark so Doctor Strange gave Thanos the Time Stone in an attempt to save Mister Stark. Next thing I know Doctor Strange, Mantis, M-Mister Stark, they’re all turning into dust. Just Nebula and I left. We lost.”

Pepper covered her hands as a silent sob racked her body, Rhodey wrapping his arm around her. Bruce scrubbed his face with his hands and left the room, Steve nodding slowly.

Tears streamed down Peter’s cheeks as his head dropped into his hands, shuddering breaths slipping past his lips. A hand rubbed his back in an attempt at comfort, a harsh sigh coming from the side of the room where Thor sat silently. Tension settled in the air just like the dust in Peter’s throat and he couldn’t breathe. 

The tears fell quicker and his vision never cleared, his skinny fingers clenched into fists. Peter wanted to get _out_ of the bloody Iron Spider suit, hitting his chest over and over again even after the suit fell from his body. He sobbed and kept beating his chest, wrestling out of Steve’s grip as best as he could. He couldn’t breathe, he didn’t want to remember and he didn’t want to feel his heart shattering again repeatedly. Natasha wrapped her arms around him and shushed him, her own tears falling into his hair. Peter screamed into her chest, trembling fingers falling away from his chest. Steve wrapped his arms around both of them, a desperate attempt to mend the broken boy together. He sobbed and sobbed, tears soaking Natasha’s blouse but she just shushed him softly. The trio never said a thing aside from a quiet reassurance aimed at Peter, but he didn’t want that.

He wanted to yell, scream, swear at them because they were the Avengers. They fought the battles _together_, they were a team and they weren’t there. Peter was too young for any of this shit, too young to be an Avenger yet the desire to be one roared through his veins. Sure Tony said he was an Avenger, but without Tony it felt pointless. The Avengers were _supposed_ to be heroes, they fought the battles nobody else would and grasped the scars nobody wanted. Mental or physical.

  
Peter couldn’t ever be an Avenger. He was too weak, too young and not good enough to ever be one. Here he was, crying and screaming, in front of the Avengers because he can’t handle the weight of the job. Couldn’t handle this scar, the one they all had now. They weren’t crying, they were strong and mature enough for it. 

“It’s okay,” Natasha murmured into his hair. She clutched him tightly and Peter clutched her back even tighter, grip never faltering even as he cried himself to sleep.

Nobody could fix his shattered, fifteen year old heart and mind no matter how hard they tried.

Nobody.


	2. brown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter knew it. Natasha didn’t have to say a word, the deafening silence of the apartment said a billion words and shoved an immense pain in his shattered heart. 
> 
> She wasn’t there.

The room smelled like disinfectant spray.

It stung his nose and stuck in the lining of his throat. It made it hard to breathe, a stifled cough got trapped in his throat. It burned his eyes so he kept them tightly shut. A scratchy, thin blanket lay on top of him and smelled too much like laundry detergent. Peter shifted and heard a quiet murmur coming from his side, peaking to see who it was.

Rhodey sat with his legs crossed, ankle at his knee, conversing with Natasha who sat on his right side. She nodded and turned to face him, a small smile forming at the sight of Peter’s open eyes, “Morning Spider-Baby.”

”Morning.” Peter yawned, covering his mouth with his right hand that was now bandaged. He frowned at it and scratched at his hairline.

Rhodey smiled at him, “We were thinking that we should take you back to your Aunt May’s apartment. No point in sticking around here, too depressing.”

Peter looked away for a moment. He completely forgot about Aunt May, that she was probably waiting for his arrival just like always. He knew she would stay up late at night until she heard the click of his window shutting, just to make sure. She would bake him cookies, eventually ending up in the trash because of her horrible cooking skills but he’d always laugh with her. He missed her deeply.

Suddenly eager, Peter nodded his head and threw the thin blanket off of him, startling Rhodey. Natasha grabbed his wrist and took out his IV before he could rip it out.

”Oh... I need clothes.”

He knew he was being picky when he grimaced at the orange hoodie Rhodey held out for him, but he couldn’t help it. Natasha ended up handing him a black turtleneck from her own closet, black skinny jeans too. They fit Peter perfectly which wasn’t all surprising, he was already so skinny before his trip to space. He trailed behind them for their adventure across town. Natasha was dressed in nearly the same thing as him, though she had a brown leather jacket that hung off her shoulders loosely. The color was comforting, a simple color but it brought out the best of the assassin.

Peter would have guessed that Natasha wore all black for missions and spy things, the brown leather jacket was different. A hidden moment among big events. Like it almost showed a different side of her, more inviting and warm. But she still had a gun in her belt, it poked out against her hip.

Rhodey’s attempt at conversation was a dead end. They sat quietly on their drive from the Avengers compound to Peter’s apartment, the chill August wind swept through the streets. It was quiet, the usual buzz of restaurants opening and cars screeching to a stop wasn’t there, gone with the wind. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. He twisted the ring that lay on his middle finger, heart aching. It was the ring Ben always wore before he passed, he was even wearing it the night of the mugging.

The cool, silver ring had a bloody fingerprint painted on its outside, stained by time. Ben slipped the ring off his finger and handed it to Peter with a tired smile, eyes glazed over. His labored breathing forever haunted the teenager, even two years after his death. Peter pulled his skinny fingers away as if the ring burned him, biting his lip. A leaf danced outside the car door. He sighed softly.

Natasha’s blonde hair whipped around as the three got out of the car, Rhodey smoothing out his shirt. Peter flipped the apartment key over in his hand, numbers glaring up at him. He turned to Rhodey and smiled sheepishly.

”You should probably stay in the lobby,” Peter said softly, “We have to climb four flights of stairs and your uhm- yeah.”

Rhodey looked unimpressed but he nodded and they walked inside. He leaned against the vacant desk in the lobby, waving at them. Natasha gestured Peter to walk ahead, taking two stairs at a time. They walked silently. Water dripped from a hole in the roof above, gliding down the stairs on the third floor. Peter smiled sheepishly and continued, hopping the rest of the fourth flight of stairs to get to his apartment. He couldn’t unlock it with his shaky hands, Natasha took over.

Stepping inside the apartment allowed boulders to settle in his stomach. A rose scented candle burned on the shelf above the television, magazines stacked atop one another. The dish rack was full of clean plates, a purple cup in the sink. Bills littered the dinner table. Peter looked around until they reached the living room. A broken mug lay scattered across the hardwood floor, tea stained it slightly. A tissue box was nearly empty, crumpled tissues piling up beside it. 

May had been sick when she waved goodbye to Peter, telling him she would see him after his field trip. She had sneezed into her tissue mid sentence then smiled sickly at him. “_Pick up some another bottle of NyQuil would you? When you get back, please._” and Peter shook his head fondly.

Peter heard Natasha’s heart stutter with realization and the parting of her lips but he just shook his head. He picked up a piece of the broken mug, clutching it tightly. It dug into his skin and his blood pooled over his fingers. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him. His breath hitched and he closed his eyes. Peter knew it. Natasha didn’t have to say a word, the deafening silence of the apartment said a billion words and shoved an immense pain in his shattered heart.

She wasn’t there. Aunt May had been dusted.

If he listened closely, maybe she actually was there. Maybe she was in her room fast asleep.

Peter’s steps faltered. Heart_beats_ pounded from down the hallway, directly across Aunt May’s room. He looked at Natasha who immediately pulled out her gun, advancing toward the heartbeats. Peter’s heart was in his throat as he reached out his trembling hand. He grasped the doorknob to his bedroom and looked at Natasha. She nodded and switched the safety off her gun. Peter swung open the door.

His spider sense screamed at him, a sharp pain shooting up his spine and he yelped. Peter shot out his hand, blocking the blow of his attacker. Natasha fired a shot but missed due to the surprise, eyes wide as she looked at the supposed attacker. He looked at the person and squinted.

”_Michelle_? Wha-“ Peter sputtered and Michelle dropped the wooden bat with a gasp. Ned’s head popped out from underneath his bed, face ghostly pale but returning back to it’s normal brown color. Michelle said nothing as she wrapped her arms around Peter, Ned scrambling from underneath the bed to hug him too.

”_Peter Parker_ I swear if you haul ass to space again I’ll kill you myself, Spider-Man or not. Gosh you’re so stupid! We thought you were dead and Ned wouldn’t shut up-“ Michelle cut herself off and just hugged him. 

Peter hugged her back slowly, a confused brow raised as he looked at Natasha. She shrugged her shoulders and stuck her gun in her belt. He didn’t even want to question how Michelle knew about his secret, she probably knew everything about him. Ned finally wrapped his arms around them.

”_Dude_ we were so worried! We saw you jump off the bridge and we couldn’t do anything but finish that stupid field trip! Then before you know it, people are turning into dust! Totally cool-“ Ned was cut off.

”People died.” Natasha glared at him, “How’s that cool?”

”Holy shit that’s Black Widow! Peter your life is so cool!” Ned shouted.

Peter suddenly felt too hot and wiggled out of Michelle’s grip. He covered his face with his hands, gasping and trying to wave off this panic attack. Natasha shushed the other teenagers. Peter just wanted out, dodging Ned’s questions and grabbed the duffel bag from his closet. He began shoving clothes into it, his four pairs of shoes and the random books on his bookshelf. He grabbed his emerald colored backpack and pushed past them, their concerns fell on deaf ears. Peter hopped down the stairs in record time, efficiently scaring Rhodey half to death. 

“Peter!” Natasha shouted, her pounding feet echoed throughout the lobby. Peter gasped and hit his chest, Rhodey grabbing his hand quickly. He wrapped his arms around the teenager and rocked them back and forth, quietly shushing him.

Peter didn’t know what brought on the panic attack, Ned’s reminder that people turned to dust everywhere or Michelle’s too-tight-of-a-grip. But he just grasped Rhodey’s shirt with his shaking hands and willed himself to calm down. Soon Natasha was running her fingers through his hair, Ned and Michelle standing by silently. Peter pulled away from Rhodey and nodded, sniffling slightly. Natasha smiled timidly.

”You can stay at my place until we figure out how to fix this.” Natasha murmured. Peter nodded and hugged his friends, apologizing repeatedly but they waved him off with teary eyes. The trio walked away, Peter’s duffel bag clutched tightly in his hand.

The trip across the city was quiet apart from sniffles here and there. Peter’s head rested against Rhodey’s shoulder, Natasha in the driver’s seat. The windows were rolled down, chilly air bit at them but nobody moved.

Peter sighed and prayed that this nightmare would be over.


End file.
